


Gift To Thee

by Higuchimon



Series: Prison of the Prince [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Advent Calendar 2015, Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Magic, Catch the Barian Emperors, Diversity Writing Challenge, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, One Ship Boot Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 16:45:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5341268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higuchimon/pseuds/Higuchimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mizael thought he'd never see Vector again and couldn't have been happier about that.  But a village in need of the reward the Mad Prince offers for his return will change that, and Vector has cruel plans of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift To Thee

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
**Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal  
**Title:** Gift To Thee  
**Romance:** Vector x Mizael  
**Word Count:** 2,201|| **Status:** One-shot  
**Genre:** Romance|| **Rated:** PG-13  
**Challenge:** Written for the Diversity Writing Challenge, section E3, a oneshot with no dividers; Written for the 2015 Advent Challenge, day #6, write about one of your favorite pairings; Written for the One Ship Boot Camp, #35, gift; Written for Catch the Barian Emperors, Vector  
**Note:** This is an AU. Mizael is a Fae Prince, and Vector is... Vector.  
**Summary:** Mizael thought he'd never see Vector again and couldn't have been happier about that. But a village in need of the reward the Mad Prince offers for his return will change that, and Vector has cruel plans of his own.

* * *

Mizael couldn't move, at least not any distance that would mean anything. Thick manacles encased his wrists and ankles and chains wound around his entire body, keeping him bound against the pole. Worst of all was the collar around his neck. There was a small layer of padding between it and his skin, but all that did was turn 'blinding pain' into 'somewhat tolerable pain'. These fools knew how to keep a fae from using his powers: cold iron. It wasn't even forged into steel, which would've lessened the effects some. 

The more he tried, the more the iron heated around his neck, until he had to stop for fear of burning himself and still not getting anywhere. If he could've done it and escaped, then he would have, even knowing that wounds caused by iron never healed. He would have been in pain his entire life – and the fae lived very, very long lives. 

It also would've been worth it to get out of here and escape the fate they had planned for him. 

He'd heard it; he had no doubts at all that they would do it, either. Their village lacked money and support. Capturing him would change that. 

Noise came from outside: the sound of a chariot and horses. Plenty of horses, so whoever was in the chariot had company. Mizael raised his head as high as he could manage. He would face this head-on. 

The door to the prison swung open after several heartstoppingly quiet minutes. Torches on either side flared up as it did, illuminating the familiar figure there, whose smile would've sent children screaming for their mothers. 

“Vector.” Mizael spat the word out, staring at the Mad Prince with all the fondness he would've reserved for something that needed scraping off of his shoe. 

“Mizael.” Vector strolled over to him, circling him where he remained chained to the pole in the center of the cell. “It's been such a long time.” 

“It could've been longer,” Mizael retorted without hesitation. He wasn't surprised at all when Vector reached out to cup the side of his chin. Pulling away didn't accomplish much, but he did it anyway. He hated Vector's touch on him but the bonds kept him from being able to avoid it. 

“But it won't be this long ever again.” Vector licked his lips, staring hungrily at Mizael before moving his hand to caress Mizael's unbound hair. “It's time to go.” 

From behind Vector there came one of the village elders, who held the key to Mizael's chains. Mizael did not resist being unchained at all. He tensed himself, eyes flicking between the elder and Vector. He might have a chance, just a slim one, if he picked his moment well… 

The elder unlocked the chains, but kept the manacles on Mizael. The collar wasn't even looked at. Mizael waited until he began to hand the chain, still fastened to the manacles themselves, over to Vector. That was his moment. 

He pulled forward, yanking the chain out of the elder's hands before Vector could grab it, and pelted for the door. The fact Vector had soldiers with him didn't bother him at all. If anything, it gave him a scrap of hope, because he could get a sword from them, and once he was armed, he would be at least halfway back to his complete strength. He wouldn't be all the way until he had the collar off and full access to his magic. But he would take what he could get. 

The moment that he passed through the doorway and into the sunlight, he stumbled. He cursed himself as he did; he'd been kept in near darkness for days and hadn't expected the sunlight to be this strong. He stumbled, breathing in hard, slamming his eyes shut. For days he'd only seen by torchlight, when he saw at all, and while he welcomed the sun as a sign of freedom, not being able to see didn't make matters better. 

He could hear sounds of people, a few soft whispers and quickly muffled cries of shock. He didn't know this place well enough to be able to navigate without his sight and his steps faltered a little. Before he could recover himself, Vector's hand rested on his shoulder quite firmly. 

“I would've told you to cover your eyes, if you'd listen to me,” Vector said. Mizael doubted that. Vector probably would've enjoyed seeing his reaction up close and personal. “Now, the carriage is this way.” He applied pressure to Mizael's shoulder, turning him. “You really shouldn't have done that. Now you'll miss the show.” 

Whatever show Vector had in mind, Mizael would be more than happy to miss it. He could hear other footsteps coming from the stone prison and then the elder spoke. 

“Your Highness, we delivered the fae prince to you as you wished. The reward -” 

“Oh, yes, the reward.” Mizael could not see Vector's face, but he knew that tone of voice. He'd _tried_ to explain this to them once he knew who they planned on giving him to once they'd captured him. 

A hundred gold per person for Mizael's capture; that had been the offer Vector spread throughout his kingdom and all of the kingdoms neighboring to him; anywhere where he felt Mizael might go after leaving him. All that mattered was that Mizael not be harmed any more than was necessary for him to be captured. Many had tried, bounty hunters of every stripe, adventuring teams, and so many more. 

But only this village had succeeded, by spreading word of a dragon being held prisoner. Mizael had always had a soft spot for dragons, so he came to see what he could do, only to find it nothing but a trap. The villagers wanted the gold; their land had suffered from poor crops and bandit raids for over ten years, and the gold would enable them to either buy enough food to survive, or move to somewhere more sustainable. 

Mizael told them. He made it clear. He'd spent over three years with Vector already, a mere drop of time in his lifespan, but enough to know Vector well indeed. 

“He won't pay you. He'll find an excuse, or worse.” Mizael could imagine what was worse. He hoped he'd never have to see it. 

They hadn't listened. They were too desperate to, he guessed. Or the lure of that much gold remained too much of a temptation. 

And now Vector was here and Mizael remained on the end of his chains, and he knew that smirk so very well. 

“Counting all of the people in the village, that would be -” 

Vector interrupted. “Oh, there's no need for that. You see, you didn't exactly fulfill my requirements. I said that he wasn't to be harmed beyond what was necessary to _capture_ him!” Vector's finger brushed across the collar around Mizael's neck. “I'm quite certain you never put this on him until _after_ he was captured.” 

Mizeal rolled his eyes. Frankly, he was surprised Vector even bothered finding a loophole instead of just telling them he wasn't going to pay. 

The elder stomped his staff on the ground. “Your Majesty! We had an agreement! Surely you didn't want him to escape! The collar was necessary!” 

“Are you trying to tell me that I'm wrong? That I've somehow made a mistake?” Vector laughed a loud, raucous laugh woven through with madness. “I'm afraid that's a very bad mistake you've made. Captain!” 

Mizael's sight was clearing up enough so that he saw someone large and well built coming to attention at Vector's words. 

“Sir!” 

“These people have insulted me. Or rather, their elder has, and as his people, they are held as responsible for his words as he is.” Vector paused, savoring what he said next. Mizael could hear the sick pleasure he took in those words. “Kill them all. Every last one of them. Burn the whole place to the ground when you're done. When I'm ready to leave, I don't want anything but ashes to show that there was anything here in the first place. Do you understand me?” 

The captain saluted smartly. “Yes, Majesty!” 

Mizael pulled at his chains and shook his head, yanking with all of his strength. Vector kept hold of him firmly. 

“What is bothering you, Mizael? You'd think that you'd be glad to see your tormentors disposed of.” He laughed again, as mad as the first time. “Or is it that you can't see it yet? I can have the slaughter held off until your eyes have recovered. It shouldn't take much longer, should it?” 

“I don't want to see them dead at all!” Mizael snapped. He would've fought for his own life without hesitation, and if need be, killed to see himself into freedom. But only against those who fought him and refused him his freedom. He would not have hurt anyone who didn't raise a weapon against him first. 

Already screams rose up from the villagers as Vector's soldiers spread out among them. Mizael tugged again at the chains and ached for the feel of a sword in his hands or magic in his veins. Despite what they'd done to him, they didn't deserve _this_. if he could have, he would've defended them to his last breath. 

Vector pushed him along until they came to the carriage. He did take his time about it, pausing every little while to take in the view of the rising carnage. Mizael refused to look at anything, knowing how much Vector wanted him to. He would go out of his way to avoid doing anything that made Vector happy. 

A gesture at a waiting servant in the carriage provided Vector with a cup of chilled wine, which he enjoyed as he observed the slaughter, keeping Mizael next to him, combing through the fae prince's golden locks with his free hand. 

“I've missed you so much,” he said, holding the wine out toward Mizael. “You didn't even give me a chance to persuade you not to leave.” 

Mizael ignored the offered wine, fastening his attention on the blue sky now that his sight had cleared enough. “You couldn't have persuaded me if I had.” He'd seen enough of Vector's evil back then. 

“But I could've had so much fun trying.” Vector chuckled at that before he nodded again at the servant. Mizael paid scant attention, his goal set now on finding a way to escape. It would be difficult this time, now that Vector knew that he didn't _want_ to be with him, and had a much better idea of what kind of magic Mizael was capable of. 

Magic… Mizael decided to try something. He reached up to indicate the collar. “I don't suppose that you would take this off.” 

Vector only laughed. “Not until we're home. I have a special one being made for you.” He leaned in to trace Mizael's ear with his tongue. “It won't burn you like iron, but you won't work any of your tricks with it on either.” 

Vector had a lot of faults, but not being able to learn from experience wasn't one of them. Mizael made a point to remember that. 

He would have to remember it, and anything else that he could learn, if he stood a chance of escaping Vector's grip, this time on a permanent basis. He was a fae prince; he would not be held and bound and enslaved to another's whims. The time he'd spent with Vector years ago had been out of curiosity and a desire for excitement that he'd never had before. Now he wanted nothing more to do with him. 

But if he couldn't escape, then the best hope that he had of dealing with this was the simple fact of his immortality: he would outlive Vector. In another century or two, this would be little more than a slightly annoying memory, of no more importance than having bumped into a rude stranger on the street somewhere. 

Vector offered him another cup, this one fresh. Mizael gave it a look before he took this one. He didn't really want anything from Vector, but it had been at least a day since his last proper meal and drink, and even the fae needed to eat. He took a careful sip and wasn't at all surprised to find that it was his favorite vintage. 

“I've forgotten nothing,” Vector murmured as Mizael quenched his thirst. “Nothing that you've ever told me about yourself.” 

Mizael's stomach churned without warning. His eyes dimmed and his legs shook as the world swam before him. Vector's arm wrapped around his shoulders, supporting him. 

“Including just how your favorite wine tastes, so you can't tell when I've added something extra.” Vector stroked his hair gently as Mizael relaxed into his arms. “Don't worry, Mizael. You'll wake up in our room, just where you belong. And then I'll have a real surprise for you.” He bent down to press his lips against Mizael's. “I am never letting you leave me again. Death will not have me, so I will always have you.” 

And Mizael heard nothing more for a very long time. 

**The End**

**Note:** Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed the story. Please let me know what you thought of it if at all possible.


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